Retribution
by leiasky
Summary: Betrayal and deception greet the King and Queen when they return from the North and Aragorn is torn by love and duty as his kingdom is thrust into a war against an unknown foe. Chapter 8 is up! READ at your own risk!
1. Default Chapter

Title:   "Retribution"

Synopsis:  Betrayal and deception greet the King and Queen when they return from the North and Aragorn is torn by love and duty as his kingdom is thrust into a war against an unknown foe.

This is an AU story that does **not follow the timeline of the book.**

Rating: PG-13 

Spoilers: Takes place after _Return of the King._

Pairing: Aragorn / Arwen.

Disclaimer: I'm not Tolkien. I don't own these characters. (darn!) I make no money. Done for fun.

Additional Info: Movie-verse.

                           First story in this series "**Restless**"

   Second story in this series  "**Revenge"**

   Sequel to "**Return**"

The above can be found here: 

The story will make more sense if read in the above order.

Archive: If you like, just tell me where.

**WARNING**: This story, after Chapter 5, will rapidly turn very angsty and depressing. There is a violent scene in Chapter  _6_ that some readers may want to skip. This is your only warning…Flames will be deflected toward my pet Balrog  - and we know how much they love fire…...

Retribution 

"I can't believe they'd dare." Aragorn hissed as he glanced over the maps and scrolls lying in piles atop the bed. "Simply because I was inaccessible for several months?"

"Apparently customs in their country are quite different from ours. But I cannot help but think there is something else at work here. But the reasons for such a feeling elude me."

"And Ardhil's Rangers found nothing amis?" Aragorn asked, concerned. For if his kinsmen could find nothing, there was nothing to be found.

"No." Faramir frowned. "Which worries me even more."

Aragorn sighed. "Perhaps I need to speak with him."

Faramir nodded and added with a wry smile. " The Haradrim did not enjoy having to deal with me as your second. Nor did a few of your advisors." 

Aragorn shot Faramir an amused grin. "Well they are rather stuck in their ways. I don't even want to know how upset they were when they found out that I was injured and not taking up the helm immediately upon my return."

"No. You don't." Faramir frowned. "Speaking of – when will you be back on your feet?"

Aragorn scowled. "Ioreth refuses to speak of it. 'When my body deems me ready' she says."

"She is a woman of riddles." Faramir chuckled. "Why, just think of the one she muttered for years before your return."

"Nearly rivals that of an elf." Aragorn chuckled and then returned to the scrolls. 

After a few more hours, and more than a few visitors, Ioreth walked in, eyes hard as stone.

"You will all leave the King this instant." She began to gather the scrolls even as the King was reading, lifting them out of his hands and placing them in a wicker basket she'd brought into the room with her. "How is he supposed to get well if you are sequestered in here worrying him with matters of state? He needs his rest."

"Ioreth-" Aragorn began but the woman shot him such a nasty look that even the King of the West had to take pause and snap his mouth shut.

"It can wait." Ioreth answered. She finished gathering all of the work Faramir, Imrahil and the generals had brought and shoved the basket into Faramir's hands. "You may have four hours with him per day. Two in the morning, two in the afternoon. No more."

Faramir blinked and when Imrahil and the captain of Gondor's guard returned with more parchment, Ioreth gasped in horror. "No more work. Out, all of you. Remove your hides from this room or I will do it for you." She turned to set a mug of medicated tea to the King's lips. "From Lord Celeborn, my Liege. His solutions appear to be having a greater effect than anything I could possibly concoct. Even that annoying Chamberlain of yours has deferred the brewing of medicinal tea to Lord Celeborn."

Aragorn chuckled and took a few sips, wincing as the steaming liquid burned a fiery path down his throat. "You'll have to thank him for me." Aragorn wrinkled his nose and took another sip, knowing that if he delayed more than a few minutes, Ioreth would tip his head and force the liquid down his throat.

Ioreth smiled smugly.

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Within a few more weeks, Aragorn was able to stand and walk on his own. He was allowed to return to his own chambers, and his own bed, but continued to be under the constant care and watch of Ioreth.

Aragorn was more than annoyed with the woman as the weeks passed and she continued to hint strongly about holding back any marital urges he might feel while he and his wife healed. The King couldn't decide if he should be embarrassed or angry. The woman was becoming nearly as bad as his Chamberlain – who, thankfully, had returned to his duties upon returning to the City and was now mostly out of Aragorn's hair.

Arwen was already in bed when Aragorn arrived and the silence that hung between them was nearly more than Aragorn could take. Since they had returned, he had been sequestered either in the Houses of healing or in his chambers, meeting with war leaders and anyone necessary to see to it that Gondor did not go into an impending war with Harad blind. Arwen had nearly been forgotten in the tumultuous events of the past weeks and Aragorn felt a stab of regret that he had not the time to spend with her. 

Elladan and Elrohir, as well as Celeborn had spent all their time with Arwen, and they reported to Aragorn daily on her progress. Her body had healed well enough but her spirit and her mind had not yet recovered from the violent loss of her babe. 

The three elves had finally come to Aragorn and insisted he leave his office and seek out his wife. For at this moment, she needed him more than did Gondor or its governors.

  
Aragorn sat gingerly on the bed, careful that he did not twist the wrong way or tear any of his healing muscles. When he reached out to rest a hand on Arwen's shoulder, he could feel her tense at his touch. "Arwen?" 

When he received no answer, Aragorn slid to her side of the large bed and lay behind her. He slowly rested his arm around her waist and pulled her back against his chest, breathing a sigh of relief when she did not try to twist out of his embrace. He had been so busy, he'd not had time to check on her as often as he would have liked and – he had to admit, it hurt to look at her because in her face he could see what they had lost. Now, with time to reflect, he knew that she saw the same when looking at him.

They had to get past this, and soon. If he marched to war, he had to know that she supported his decision.

"Indonya? Please look at me."

"Why Aragorn?"

Aragorn winced. It was not often she called him by his birthname. In court she called him Elessar, his crowned name, in private, it was Estel, his elvish name. Only when she was upset with him did she ever use his birth name. _Well_, Aragorn thought, _she had every right to be angry_

He took a deep breath and buried his bearded chin in her neck. "Because I love you. And we need to talk."

"We've needed to talk for a very long time." Arwen's voice was low and he could feel her begin to pull away. When she stood, ebony hair falling down her back like a silken wave, and walked into an adjoining room, Aragorn could not help but feel ashamed. His heart plummeted into his stomach as he watched candlelight flicker against the walls of the room, which had long ago been prepared as a nursery. 

It had always been so. There had always been a room off the King's master bedchambers that stood ready to house the next heir. Aragorn had not set foot in the room since they'd returned to the City. Apparently, Arwen had.

He stood slowly and padded to the room. Standing in the doorway, he gasped at the things that filled the room that had stood very empty when they'd left for Annuminas. An elven crib rested in the center of the large chamber, one he recognized. An elven rocking chair rested against the wall and small things littered the room, all very elvish in design. Arwen had been busy. She had found something to occupy her time while her husband recovered and spent more time with his advisors than with his grieving wife. 

So immersed in concern for his wife, he had not heard the pounding on the door or the soft elven footsteps as they made their way into the King's innermost chambers. Elladan and Elrohir hung in the doorway, watching carefully this exchange between husband and wife. They'd sent Aragorn to her but in hindsight they realized that it might be best for someone to be there to prevent their sister from rending her husband limb from limb.

Aragorn watched his wife carefully, before stepping closer to brush the back of her arm with a gentle touch of his hand. Her head snapped toward him, her eyes red and her cheeks wet with falling tears. As he opened his mouth to speak, she stepped away. "There are no words you can say to still my pain, Aragorn."

Aragorn closed his eyes and sighed. When he opened them again, Arwen was holding a small toy he knew had to have been hers when she was a child. It was clear that she'd surrounded herself with immortal elven things to force away the very sting of mortal death. "There are no words to still pain such as this, Arwen."

His wife tilted her head and stared at him. "Pain such as this? How would you know? You've been far too busy, immersed yourself in your work, to even give this the smallest thought."

Elladan and Elrohir winced at her tone, knowing that Aragorn was in for a verbal lashing he did not deserve - mostly. Arwen had never once called him Aragorn, not in private, not even in public, not even when talking about him with another. Not until she'd lost her child.  The twins prepared themselves to see their sister's elven temper flare. It would not be a pretty sight and they pitied the man that would be on the receiving end of her fury.

"You could not feel the child's very soul slipping away inside you. Helpless to do anything but lay there and pray to Elbereth not to take my baby!" Arwen was staring hard at him now and Celeborn, who had followed his grandsons, took a step in to defend the King, who had not yet attempted to defend himself. 

"Our baby, Arwen." Aragorn said finally, halting Celeborn's steps with a half-raised hand. 

"You'd have never known it by your inability to save him." Arwen snapped and turned away from her husband, cradling the toy in her arms as if it was a babe.

Aragorn bit back a gasp and closed his eyes. When he opened them there were tears pooling beneath the lids, ready to fall. "I would have given my life for him, Arwen." He wrapped his arms around her from behind, ignoring her movements to extricate herself from his embrace. "I would die for you." He whispered, dropping his face to her neck.

She could feel his tears drip down the bare skin, and it cooled her raging temper with the speed of an avalanche. While he had not been there in the last few weeks to help her through the pain and despair, she could not deny that he hurt as much as she at the loss of their babe. "I would have died for our baby," His hands slipped down to cradle her stomach. "You must know that I would do anything for you."

The twins stood silently, watching the exchange as Celeborn stepped back to join them. 

"I'm sorry I wasn't here. I will make no excuses." Aragorn turned her around in his arms and gazed at her with such pain and longing in his eyes that Arwen couldn't help but sob. "It was easier to fall into concern about an impending war than to deal with the raging emotions that well in my heart whenever I think of what we've lost." He leaned his forehead against hers and closed his eyes. "I'm sorry. Please forgive me."

Arwen sobbed and tears dripped down her face. She made no effort to wipe them away. His hands immediately cupped her cheeks, thumbs wiping away the falling tears. "I love you. You are my heart, my life. I don't know what I would do without you. Please, Pl-"

A trembling finger came up to cover his lips and she leaned forward to press her lips to his. "I know you have more to worry about than a lost child, Estel. Impending war is nothing to ignore and I was wrong to think that I was more important than an entire Kingdom."

"That is where you are wrong," Aragorn's eyes hardened and he pulled her against his chest, holding her tightly. "I would give up this Kingdom for you. I would give up everything….and still it would not be enough. It would not equal what you have given me."

"You have given me your love." Arwen rested her head on his shoulder and wrapped her arms tightly around his back. "That is all that I will ever need."

The twins and Celeborn quietly made their way out of the room. Secure in the knowledge that Arwen was not going to tear the King of the West limb from limb and feed what was left to the household animals.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2 

-One month later-

"I told you I was not going to allow you to set foot outside the city again! And even if I were to relent on my declaration, it wouldn't be within mere months of me making it!" Faramir stared at his King, hands on his hips, ready for an argument.

"The Haradhrim have attacked trade envoys and outlying settlements, do you think that I intend to sit here and let them kill the very people that rely on me for protection?" Aragorn replied, his hands clenched into fists.

"I've sent Ithilian Rangers and soldiers to intercept these raiders. I expect them to be thwarted in no time." Came the quick retort as Faramir stood his ground.

"Each time fewer men return to the City. They are sent into a trap. The Haradhrim know we will not stand for our people to be attacked without provocation." Aragorn stood and straightened. "I will ride at the head of the army that will wipe out this enemy and send them back to their country once and for all."

"I vehemently protest this decision." Faramir set his chin and narrowed his eyes. "And your advisors will see it my way as well." As an afterthought Faramir muttered, "For a change."

"Why are you fighting me so hard on this, Faramir?" Aragorn's eyes softened slightly, wondering why his Steward was so vehemently against him leaving the City.

Faramir tipped his head and started to pull at his hair. "See this? See all of the gray hair your _last_ venture outside the City gave me? And these patches where I've pulled it out in frustration and worry? I'll be bald before my 50th year!"

Aragorn grinned, grateful for the momentary pause in their argument. "It is more than that and you know it. You can tell me, or I'll question everyone in the Citadel and at Court until I find out."

"You don't want to do that." Faramir said slowly, his voice dropping.

"Then you'd best sit down and tell me then, hadn't you?" Aragorn resumed his seat, crossed his hands in front of him and waited for Faramir to begin.

"It's not easy to say, after all that has happened in the last few months." Faramir began, raising Aragorn's curiosity even further. "Besides my reluctance to let you out of my sight until I am certain no more doom will fall upon your head, the court thinks you should not leave until-"

Aragorn leaned forward and rested his arms on his desk. "Until what?" When the answer was not forthcoming, Aragorn stood and repeated himself. "Until. What?" His tone left no room for further delay and Faramir gulped. 

"Until Arwen bears you an heir." Faramir winced as he said the words and steeled himself for an expected angry tirade.

Aragorn closed his eyes and sank back into his seat, completely surprising the young Steward. The King ran his hands through his hair and over his face as if contemplating what to say.

"I'm sorry." Faramir said slowly. "You wanted to know. I didn't want to have to be the one to tell you."

"And I should have known exactly what it was for I had heard the talk, even before we left for Annuminas." Aragorn said, his voice low. Suddenly, Aragorn stared at Faramir. "You share this opinion?"

"No." Came the quick response, far too quick for Aragorn's comfort. "Yes and no."

Aragorn nodded and Faramir made to continue in an attempt to explain himself, but Aragorn raised a hand to stop him.

"Arwen is an elf. Elves do not bear many children, nor do they bear them at a convenient time. We have only been married for a little over five years – not long by far in elven terms." Aragorn began. He grew tired of having this conversation. "It will be when her body is ready that she will conceive and carry a child to its full term."

"And…if this does not happen in your lifetime?" Faramir loathed to say the words but he knew the Court would press the issue and he wanted to have a retort to shut them up when it happened. 

"You and all that come from your line have been named my heirs." Aragorn answered with a small smile. 

Faramir was taken aback and he visibly stumbled before recovering himself enough to speak. "When? How?"

"It was done when I returned from Annuminas." Aragorn answered slowly. "It is not well known and I wish it to remain that way. I don't want to give anyone any cause for fear that if Arwen never bears another child, the Kingdom will be left without an heir."

"Is that the case?" Faramir pressed, wondering if Aragorn was keeping something from him.

"No. She is perfectly capable of bearing children if her body permits and the Valar are kind." 

Faramir could see Aragorn's quickly masked pain of remembering his lost child and the Steward immediately regretted bringing this new pressure to the King's attention so soon

"Well, I am honored for your trust but it is something that will never come to pass. Lady Arwen will bear you an heir and that is all I will tell anyone who dares to ask."

Aragorn smiled slightly. "Thank you Faramir. This new revelation does not change your opinion of my leading the army to wipe out the Haradhrim raiders?"

Faramir bowed his head. "No, My Lord."

"Then we must come to some sort of agreement then, because I am leading the army, and there is nothing that you or my Court can do to prevent this."

Faramir sighed and resumed his seat across from the King. The sun had just risen and Faramir yawned. It was going to be a very long day.

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After the day's meetings ended, Aragorn chose to vent some of his pent up frustration and anger out in the gardens, rather than return and lay it all on Arwen's shoulders. The  life within the royal garden could always calm him if he settled down and listened to the whistling of their words. Ignoring all of the stone benches, and recently added elven ones, Aragorn took a seat among the flowers and the grass, leaning back to let their scent envelop him and send tendrils of calm into his body.

This is where the twins found him, laying sprawled in between one of the flower beds. Two sets of amused eyebrows raised and glanced down at their foster-brother. They could tell, by his uneven breathing, that he was not asleep – though his eyes were closed.

"Yes?" The twins jumped at Aragorn's question. Before they could answer, Aragorn opened one eye and then the other. "Think you that I've lost my Ranger skills in five short years as King?"

Elladan chuckled as the twins knelt beside their brother. "We don't mean to interrupt but we've heard about the especially long day you've had."

Aragorn sighed. "If I have to tell one more person about the ability of elves to conceive or argue with another governor about personally leading the army against the Haradhrim, heads are going to roll."

Elladan raised a curious eyebrow. "An Elves ability to conceive?" This was something that he had not heard of transpiring today.

Aragorn noted the shock on his brother's face and sighed. "Men are not as familiar with how an elf conceives a child so they expect Arwen to be carrying another any time now."

The twins winced.

"I'm frankly tired of hearing it. It wouldn't surprise me if it was the stress surrounding the White City that has prevented such a conception in the first place."

The twins could hear the strain and frustration in Aragorn's voice as they let him continue. It was best to let him vent here, than inside where more could overhear.

"This is nothing new to me. I understand what is happening. I grew up around elves. But I'm now tired of trying to explain it to others. What will be will be. I have made provisions in the case Arwen bears no other children. They can ask no more of me."

"They could." Elladan added, not really wanting to think of what could be asked of Aragorn should his Queen be unable to bear him an heir.

Aragorn glanced at Elladan, eyes hardening with even the mere thought. "I will abdicate the throne should they even _suggest that I lay with another."_

Elrohir nodded. "Your people are-"

"I have a duty to my people, yes, but I also have a duty to my wife. In this case, my duty is to my wife." Aragorn stated, refusing to believe any in his court would have the gall to ask this of him.

The twins nodded and fell silent. For a time, the wind was all that could be heard, whistling atop the trees, across the grass and through the flowerbeds. The sound soothed Aragorn's temper and relaxed him to the point of almost falling asleep on the grass. Instead, an amused grin greeted him when the door opened and Arwen stepped through, obviously also intent in taking in the fragrant air of the private garden.

The twins stood quickly, dusting themselves off before bending to kiss their sister and excusing themselves with mutterings of duties they had yet to attend. 

Aragorn opened his arms and Arwen stared down at him before shaking her head and walking to one of the elegantly carved benches that lined the flowerbeds. Aragorn grunted, pushed himself to his feet and moved to join her.

She snuggled against his side when his arm came down on her shoulders and pulled her against his chest. His breath quickened when she pressed her lips to his neck and began to move her mouth in a gentle caress along the chord of muscle that she found there.

"Hmm, you should come out here more often," Aragorn muttered, the arm around her shoulder lifting to allow his hand to delve into her long, ebony hair.

"Catch you in the grass….with my brothers?" There was an amused lilt to her voice and when the pads of his fingers dipped through her hair to brush against the nape of her neck, she trembled.

"Well…." 

Arwen pressed a finger to his lips and his free hand immediately caught hers and pressed it to his mouth. When their eyes met, a spark ignited between them and Arwen leaned closer, eager to receive his kiss.

She melted against him as their lips met and as their tongues began the ages old dance, Arwen slid slowly into his lap and locked her arms around his neck. After a few moments, she pulled away, stood and held out her hand.

He smiled warmly and slid rough, calloused hands into small, pale ones and followed her back to their chambers.

It was time for their lives to return to normal and resuming their physical relations was the last piece in a very large, complicated puzzle to be fit back into place.

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His hands trailed down the length of her arms, drawing the soft fabric of the simple chemise she wore down her shoulders. Rough, calloused hands brushed against her pale skin, drawing breathless sighs from her lips. 

Arwen stood with her back to him as they stood at the entrance to a terrace that had been built off the King's master bedchambers.

"Come away, lest all of the city see what their King and Queen do to pleasure themselves." His heated whisper sent tremors down her spine and she leaned back against his chest.

His arms came around her to pull her into a tight embrace. When his mouth dropped to the pale skin of her neck, she whimpered, eyes fluttering shut as his lips gently passed across her skin.

"I don't care if the entire city sees us, Estel," Arwen smiled when he grunted against her skin. When she turned in his embrace and wrapped her arms around his neck, she said with a smile. "Then they would see just how much we truly love one another."

"Was there ever any doubt?" He asked suddenly, his mood turning dark in remembrance  of the last few months. 

"Never, indonya," Arwen trailed a finger down his cheek and under a whiskered chin. "Never."

Before the last word was out of her mouth, he had bent to kiss her. Without breaking the kiss, he backed her toward their bed and removed the remainder of the garment from her shoulders. She lay in the middle of the cushions and raised her arms, beckoning him to join her.

He gazed down at her, eyes sparkling with boyish mischief and she chuckled. 

"As much as I would like to undress you, my love. I think I will simply lay here and watch as you bare your body for me." Her voice had deepened with her own arousal as her hands dropped to the coverlet, covering not an inch of her own naked body from his eyes.

Aragorn grinned as his hands nimbly unfastened the buttons running the length of his velvet tunic. Arwen's eyes darkened as he let the tunic slip from his shoulders and began to unfasten the fastenings of the silk shirt beneath. She licked her lips as his chest was bared to her in the flickering candlelight. The fireplace burned brightly in the corner of the room, casting shadows across his lean body, highlighting each muscle and flashing it across the wall beside them.

"Is this good enough, my love?" Aragorn asked slowly, eyes searching Arwen's for any hint of permission to join her in bed.

"Not nearly," Arwen's eyes sparkled as she licked her lips. "I want you as bare as when you came into this world before you set one limb on my bed."

An amused eyebrow raised at the comment. "_Your bed?"_

Arwen grinned mischievously, flattened her hands against her stomach and began to twirl lazy circles along the bare skin.

Aragorn groaned and his eyes darkened. "Anything my wife desires." Slowly, his hands moved to the fastening of his breeches and he grinned as her eyes followed his fingers. When he slid the velvet down over his hips, he could see her sigh at the sight of his body completely bared before her hungry eyes. 

When he moved to join her on the bed, her voice rang out. "Wait."

He stared down at her and – waited…the throbbing in his groin worsening with each passing second.

"I want to look at you." 

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NC-17 version on my site. Please click on my name at the top of the page and you will find the URL.

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Many hours later, Arwen lay nestled against her husband's side, his arms wrapped protectively around her shoulders. Neither of them slept well, even after their rather passionate union. The coming war weighed heavily on their minds and neither wanted to ruin the perfect evening with talk of his leaving to lead the Goldorian army against the Haradhrim.

One hand slid over her shoulder to flatten against the back of her head, smoothing back the silky locks before tenderly removing stray strands of hair from her face.

"What are you thinking about?" He asked slowly.

Arwen rubbed her cheek comfortably against his bare chest and sighed, unsure if she really wanted to spoil their evening with unfounded concerns.

"You. Me. Us. Gondor." Arwen said quietly and smiled when he chuckled.

"It must be a trait for all elves to be vague."

When she lifted her head to stare into perfectly crystalline eyes, his smile faded and he brought both hands around to cup her cheeks. "Indonya?" He waited patiently for an answer, knowing it would come when she was good and ready.

When it didn't and she simply stared into his eyes, fingers caressing his chest, he leaned forward and silently pressed his lips to hers. She answered his kiss with one of such intense hunger it nearly stole away his breath.

"Love me, Estel." She murmured against his lips as she reached between them and removed any further barriers separating their bodies. 

"Always," he whispered as their lips met in a passionate kiss that left them both breathless.

She sighed happily to find that he was as ready for her as she was for him. Soon, they were joined once more in a union that rocked more than just their bed. As they began the ages old dance, their souls merged and a small spark ignited within and fanned the flames of their passion. 

Exhaustion converged upon them as their union solidified and they answered their bodies' call for release. They collapsed in one another's arms, utterly spent once again.

Aragorn opened his mouth to speak but slim fingers prevented the words to be voiced. "Tomorrow, my love. We will speak of it tomorrow."

Sleep and exhaustion overtook them quickly, as they settled into a comfortable embrace, Arwen's head pillowed atop his chest and arm draped casually across his waist.

Indeed they would speak tomorrow of the upcoming war – and of the long separation they would need to endure to ensure the safety and security of the Reunited Kingdom and its people.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3 

-1 week later-

"Day 1"

"Perhaps the coming of the Haradrim King will prevent our nations from going to war," Faramir said hopefully as they sat waiting for the arrival of their visitor and his party. A runner had announced that they were making their way through the circles of the city, so the Steward and the King knew they had not long to wait. "I still can't believe they agreed to this meeting – after what they have already done."

Aragorn had agreed to this meeting, even after rumors of the destruction the Haradrim had wrought throughout Gondor's lands.

"He has a lot of explaining to do with regards to the raids on our lands and our  people. The trade envoy's that have been destroyed, the outlying settlements that have been burned to the ground." Aragorn stared down the hall, his face an expressionless mask save for the determination in his eyes.

The court stood and waited silently until the large double doors were opened and in strode the large, dark-skinned King of the Haradrim. His herald announced his arrival and listed all of the lands in which he commanded. His guards followed closely and Aragorn could see their eyes darting around the Hall to be sure nothing threatened their King. Advisors surrounded the tall man, clearly standing so close as to be the second line of defense should the guards fail to stop an attack.

Aragorn's royal Chamberlain stood to one side, eyeing the new arrivals warily. When he moved onto the lower step of the dais, Aragorn held up his hand to stop the man from reciting all the lands that Aragorn ruled. The Chamberlain frowned and bowed stiffly, returning to his place.

 The King of the West remained seated until the Haradrim King came to a halt at the base of the steps that led to the dais. Aragorn then stood and inclined his head in respect for the desert King that stood as Aragorn's equal. The Haradrim King gave a quick bow, honoring the King in whose Hall he stood.

"It is good that you've decided to meet with us. It is unusual for an audience, with a ruler such as yourself, to go un-granted for such a length of time. My Councilors have had a difficult time advising me in a course of action."

"I was indisposed with matters of state that were unavoidable." Aragorn answered, his tone leaving no room to challenge. He returned to the throne and sat slowly into the cushioned seat.

Aragorn's face remained calm as he changed the subject. "We will dispense with the pleasantries, Lord King. I wish to speak of peace, but first I want an explanation, as do all in my court, as to why the Haradrim have been attacking Gondorian settlements along our boarders and trade envoy's on their way to Gondor from Southern settlements."

The Haradrim King nodded as if he knew this line of questioning would come sooner rather than later. "Yes, I, too have heard of these raids."

Aragorn stared at the foreign King, his face an expressionless mask, as a ripple of gasps filled down the ranks of noble's standing in the Hall.

"Alas, it is not the Haradrim that plaque your boarders, King Elessar, it is the Wainriders and the Variags of Khand."

"Wainriders have not been seen for many generations." Aragorn stood and approached the top of the steps. "They were routed during the rein of King Earnil."

"Yes, but 32 generations of men is a lot of time to harbor hatred and resentment toward your people." The Haradrim King said quickly. "They have many more in their number than I think you realize."

"And have they given up their famous chariots in which they rode to war?" Aragorn asked, surprising the Haradrim King with his knowledge of Gondor's past enemies. "For there are no tracks that would lead myself or my captains to believe these raiders rode anything but stallions of war." 

"I do not know. I concern myself with matters of my own lands, rather than with those of Gondor." 

Aragorn's chin rose and his eyes narrowed. His gaze swept over the Haradrim King's envoy and then back to the King himself.  "Your men will be given a wing within the 6th circle. I must ask that they do not go anywhere within the City unescorted, however. My people are most nervous about this meeting and, I fear, would not hesitate to strike out if they felt threatened in any way."

Aragorn motioned for Faramir and Imrahil to join him and indicated for the Haradrim King and his closest advisors to follow.

-----------------------------

"I have no doubt that Estel will only allow them access to the portions of the City that are necessary." Arwen walked slowly along the cobbled path, talking with her brothers about the highly anticipated meeting of Kings that her husband had risen so early to attend. The path led out of the Citadel and into the sixth circle and they turned to take the direct, and public, route out of the relative sanctuary of the sixth gate. "I am curious about these people however, and I anticipate there will be a banquet within the next few days if Estel is able to come to an agreement with their King."

"Estel is a good negotiator, I think he'll be able to avoid a war with Harad." Elladan said. As they passed through each gate, guards and peasants alike nodded and bowed to the Queen.

"He won't go easy on the Haradrim for the deaths and raids on Gondor's boarders with Harad." Arwen said firmly. "He will demand retribution for such acts of war."

Four sets of eyes stared at the elves as they reached the bustling marketplace spread out in the large courtyard just inside the first circle of the city. So common it was for Arwen, and even Aragorn, to walk among the people, few turned to gawk at the royalty other than to incline their heads or bow in respect for Arwen's station as Queen. With each passing week, the vendors trading their wares in the market grew, until it had spilled outside the first gate all together. 

The cloaked figures separated into pairs of two's and watched the elves carefully, waiting for their plan to fall into place. The men whispered to themselves in a language unknown to the majority of the people in Gondor. They would need to work quickly, each movement executed with practiced precision, for their plan to work as designed.

Arwen laughed as a child held up an elegant piece of material for the Queen to see, the child's kin held up mugs and ale to Elladan and Elrohir who kindly examined the goods with a smile.

The cloaked men followed the elves to the end of the courtyard, near where the streets became narrower and buildings, rather than open squares of grass and sand, became prevalent. At the other end of the large courtyard, wagons carried food and other items into the market and still others traveled out of the gates with goods to trade with neighboring settlements. One cloaked man nodded to others who stood by the gate, waiting for the guard to change in the mid-day heat. 

Elladan sensed the danger moments too late, as a cloaked figure leapt on top of him and knocked him to the ground. A large cloak covered his head, obscuring his view, and he grunted when a fist connected with his jaw.  

Similarly, a leg came out from beneath a nearby wagon and tripped Elrohir, who was unable to right his balance before toppling to the ground. Arwen screamed but her cries were cut short by a hand wrapping itself firmly over her mouth. The large man drew her against his chest and covered her with his cloak to hide the source of the scream. She clawed blindly at him, anything that she could get her hands on, as her cries echoed across the courtyard.

The guards atop the wall, in the middle of their mid-day change, scrambled for their weapons – hearing the scream. 

Arrows flew out of a hidden location and struck the guards, downing them from their posts almost immediately. The guards that made it down the stairs were summarily killed with knives to the back, by the cloaked figures waiting for the anticipated reaction.

Elladan procured a hidden knife and sliced apart the cloak that had covered him, in the process, drawing blood from the one intent on keeping the elf away from his sister. The man yelped in surprise and suddenly the weight was lifted from Elladan's back.

Elladan could hear his sister's screams but when he heard a hand impact with skin, her cries stopped and the elf knew his sister had been rendered unconscious.

"Arwen!" Elladan scrambled from beneath the cloak, clutching his knife tightly.

The crowd bean to scatter and scream, having seen the gate guards killed before their very eyes. The cloaked men disappeared into the panicked crowd as Elladan and Elrohir rushed through the people in a vain effort to find their sister.

Keen elven eyes scanned the crowd but could find no one resembling whom they thought had taken their sister. The twins split up in an effort to cover more ground and when Elladan spotted a strange cloaked figure slinking around the corner, he called to his brother and rushed after the man.

Elrohir caught up with Elladan and together they followed the cloaked stranger. Eyes intent upon their sister's captor, they didn't notice an archer take aim from behind. The twins pushed aside anyone who got in their way and just before they reached and rounded a corner, the archer let loose his arrow.

Elrohir cried out and Elladan's eyes widened with fear as his brother sank to the ground, pain etched into his ageless features.

"Go! Go!" Elrohir coughed. "Find her!"

Elladan's eyes were wild with fear as he noticed royal guards racing up the street toward him. He called to them. "Here! Someone has taken the Queen! See to it her brother is taken to the Houses of Healing!" he pressed a quick kiss to his brother's forehead and watched as the younger elf slid into unconsciousness in the hands of a royal guard.

---------------------------

"All has gone well," The Haradrim King nodded as he walked with Aragorn down the halls of the Citadel. Flanking the men were Imrahil, Faramir and two of the Haradrim's King's own advisors, followed by Citadel Guards. "I hope tomorrow brings such good tidings."

Aragorn led the group outside the Citadel, stopped at the top of the steps, and turned to the Haradrim King. "I have no wish to enter into a war with your people if it can be avoided. We have much more to discuss, but I, too, believe we have made progress today."

Commotion below distracted the men and Aragorn stared down at the Captain of the Guard rushing toward him.

"What is it?" Faramir called and his eyes narrowed as two more gate guards rushed into the courtyard behind their Captain, weapons drawn and ready.

The Haradrim King's one advisor positioned his King behind him with a subtle push of his arm, his hand going to his own hidden dagger. The other advisor stepped forward beside Aragorn.

"The Queen has been abducted from the market!"

"What?!" Aragorn's eyes narrowed and his own hand slipped to the elven knife strapped to his belt. He risked a glance at the Haradrim King, whose face registered as much shock as Aragorn's at the news.

The Citadel guards behind Aragorn quickly unsheathed their weapons and pressed them into the backs of their visitors.

The Haradrim King's eyes narrowed at such an unspoken accusation and as Aragorn turned and raised his hand to stop the royal guards from pressing further, an arrow sailed passed his head and into the neck of one of the Citadel guards.

Imrahil and Faramir reached for Aragorn as the Haradrim's advisor gripped his king and pushed him to the ground.  Just then, another arrow sailed into the back of the advisor standing close to Aragorn. He cried out and then was silent.

Two Citadel guards gripped Aragorn's arms and pulled him down amidst his cries to the guards below to find his wife. Another arrow sailed passed Aragorn's head as he struggled out of the Citadel guard's grip and rushed down the steps toward where the three gate guards were still running towards him.

"Aragorn! No!" Faramir cried. He rushed after Aragorn and watched in horror as another arrow took down the King and he stumbled, tumbling painfully down the rest of the stone steps.

"Aragorn!" Imrahil cried as he was pushed to the ground by a Citadel guard. He heard someone call out that they'd located the archer but could not see where this assassin was hidden. Soon, the _sching of swords being drawn and bows being fired were the only sounds that filled his ears._

Faramir reached Aragorn at the same time as the three first circle guards. They pushed Faramir to the ground and covered the Steward, who, until the King's injuries were ascertained, was the heir to the throne.

--------------------------

"Unhand me this instant!" Arwen struggled in her captor's arms, biting at the fingers that covered her mouth. She had just woken from her unappreciated unconsciousness and began struggling immediately, hoping to dislodge the cloak that covered her.

"Quiet, elf witch!" The man's arm tightened around her waist and Arwen groaned in pain as the man pressed a little too deeply on her healing abdomen.

"Shut her up!" She heard another man whisper urgently as they disappeared into a particularly dark, musty building.

A tavern wench siddled up to them, batting her eyelashes expectantly. "What can I get for you, sirs?"

"A room," The first man gruffed, grabbed the wench by the waist, to distract her from the still struggling Queen beneath the cloak of his comrade, and pulled her into his arms for a sloppy kiss. 

"Of course." The woman disappeared into the back as the two cloaked men moved to a dark table in the back of the ratty tavern. Arwen continued to struggle in the man's arms and he finally turned to her and removed her from the inside of his cloak.  "Silence!"

Arwen sneered and opened her mouth to scream when she noticed they were in a very dark, smelly tavern. One that looked nothing like the buildings in Minis Tirith. Arwen's heart plummeted into her stomach when she realized that she may no longer be in the White City.

 The man anticipated her action and backhanded her across the cheek, sending her pretty face into the wall and her consciousness into dark oblivion.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4 

"Oh yes, yes," The man grunted as he held her hips tightly between dirty fingers. The tavern wench cried out like a mare in heat as the cloaked man moved between her thighs, dragging his pleasure from her body with hard, quick thrusts.

Arwen, covered with a cloak and lying in the corner, woke from her forced unconsciousness to the disturbing sounds and froze. For a moment she couldn't remember where she was, until she felt a large body sitting next to her. Her head was swimming, her cheek throbbing, but she dared not move, lest they know she was awake. She wouldn't make the same mistake she'd made the last time.

"Hurry up, will you!" The man beside her called to the other, obviously occupied, man. "We've got to go soon and I ain't leavin' until I've had my turn!"

Arwen winced, recognizing the unmistakable sound of a mutually agreed upon, and Arwen had no doubt, well-paid, union. As long as her captors didn't think of touching her in that way, she would stay very still and let them have their way with the woman who chose to spread her legs for these disgusting men.

The man let out a long, deep groan and Arwen could hear the bed creak as he stood and grunted his satisfaction. "She's all yours."

The man beside Arwen stood and she contemplated peeking from beneath the voluminous cloak that covered her, until the other man plopped his sated self far too close for the Queen's comfort. She could smell the sweat that covered him and fought a wave of disgusted nausea.

"Come here my big warrior," Arwen could hear the tavern woman coo and nearly gagged. Arwen squeezed her eyes shut in hopes of drowning out the sounds of this new man mounting his catch but it was to no avail. She could hear the bed creak with every arch of his hips, every loud grunt as he drove into her. The woman urged her client on….urged him to take her quickly and Arwen couldn't help but wonder if the woman just wanted it to be over with so she could be paid.

Mercifully, this man lasted no longer than the first, and soon Arwen heard him climb off the tavern wench and toss a few coins onto the table.

"Excellent services!"

Arwen heard the woman gather up the coins and hastily leave the room. No sooner had the door shut than was Arwen lifted to her feet and tossed onto the bed.

She stared up at the two men, wide-eyed with fear. Her hands crossed over her stomach and she glanced away from the one man fastening the front of his breeches.

"So, the little elf is awake." The dark haired man finished fastening his trousers glanced over at the Queen.

The other leaned down on the bed, over her and whispered into her ear. "Did the sounds of our pleasure give you a nice, warm feeling in the pit of that royal stomach of yours?"

Arwen grimaced and the two men laughed.

"Oh, I want to take her." The first man leaned down and placed a hand on her stomach. Arwen twisted out of his grasp with a muffled cry. "Just a few minutes. Spoil the elf bitch for the King who should have married one of his own – instead of – this, this_ elf." The man sneered at Arwen and when he reached for her ear, she tried to pull away, only to find she wasn't fast enough. "Wonder what it is she gives the King, to keep him so enamored." He roughly cupped her cheek. "I want a taste! Maybe if we take her, get a babe on her, the King will toss her out and get himself a proper wife!"_

Arwen's eyes widened in fear as the man covered her mouth and mounted her.

"No! We're to bring her untouched!" The other hissed, pushing the first man off the Queen and quickly gathering a gag. 

"Whatever they want to do to her when we arrive is their business. We will not touch her in that way!" The second man shoved the gag into Arwen's mouth and lifted her to her feet.

The first man scowled and raked his eyes down her body. "I bet she's nice and sweet. Can't tell me you don't want a bite."

The larger man stared. "If you touch her, I'll kill you myself! Now get out there and see if the City guards have left! We need to get to Lossarnach and quickly. Time is running out!"

-------------------------

Faramir could hear Aragorn growl angrily as the arrow was removed and his leg cleaned and bandaged.  The Steward stood next to his King, listening as the angry man drawled out order after order to the waiting men. Ioreth quickly cleaned and bandaged Aragorn's leg, and examined the head wound he had sustained when falling down the Citadel's stone steps.

"Away!" Aragorn growled at Ioreth and Faramir could see the woman nearly come out of her skin at the tone and wild look in Aragorn's eyes.

"Post armed guards everywhere!" Aragorn hissed toward the captain of the sixth circle guard. "If they haven't gotten out of the city, I want them found! Search every home if you have to!" The guard nodded nervously and rushed out of the room, only to be replaced by another – first circle guard captain.

Aragorn turned to him and without taking a breath issued his orders. "Close all known gates into and out of the City,  and refuse any trade until we find my wife! If there are complaints, send them to me. I'll deal with them personally."

"I want you to find who did this and they are to pay – with their lives- if I don't get Arwen back." Aragorn was furious. Healer's continued to fuss over him, assuring that his injuries were well-treated, Guards stumbled over themselves to provide him with an accurate account of what had happened prior to Arwen's kidnapping, _and_ he'd just been informed that one of his foster brother's had been hit with an arrow meant for his wife. The Chamberlain had arrived with a host of councilors and captains, all hanging on the King's every word. Mercifully, the man chattered not at all to his King, instead stood nervously toward the back, wondering if the King would turn his growing ire on him at some point. 

All of this _and_ the Haradrim, sworn enemies of Gondor for as long as men could remember, were quartered as honored guests within the sixth circle of the City.

Faramir risked a worried glance at Imrahil who stepped beside him to address the King. "I am going to check on the Haradrim King. We need to see how he fares."

Aragorn turned wild, furious eyes on Imrahil who held up his hand to keep the King from speaking. "It is only proper, until we find the person's responsible for this, that someone check on him. His Councilor was also killed in this attack. I believe the King, himself,  was uninjured. But we must at least act concerned."

"Find out, and then have every one of his men questioned!" Aragorn growled.

"This is a delicate situation, Elessar," Imrahil knelt and rested a hand on Aragorn's forearm, addressing him as not a friend, but as his King. There were too many others in the room and some sense of protocol was needed amidst all the chaos. "We cannot, until we have proof, indicate that we blame the Haradrim for this attack. We are trying to avoid a war, and what has happened today may very well have sealed our fates if we don't tread very carefully."

"I am quite aware of what is happening, Imrahil. I will issue no accusation until proof is provided. " Aragorn's gaze softened slightly. "Find out and bring him to me." His gaze swept over the men surrounding him. "And someone find out how Elrohir fares!"

Aragorn swung his legs over the edge of the bed and moved  to stand. Faramir offered his arm to steady the King and Aragorn shot him a grateful nod as everyone moved away.

A young boy rushed in, trailing a Citadel Guard, drawing the attention of everyone in the room. The guard pushed everyone aside so that the messenger could pass. In his hand he held a rolled parchment stained with blood. The captains standing beside Aragorn parted like the sea and stared.

"My Lord!" The boy was breathless as he held up the parchment. 

Aragorn swiped it out of the young man's hands as the boy shot a worried glance at Imrahil, recognizing the man as his Lord.

Faramir's eyes narrowed and Imrahil's breath caught in his chest. What now?

"News from Dol Amroth, My Lord! The City is under attack!" The boy was unable to contain his fear and so spoke as Aragorn read.

"What?!" Aragorn, Faramir and Imrahil chorused simultaneously.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5 

"By who?" Aragorn demanded as the bearer of the parchment cowered away from the angry King.  

Imrahil ripped the parchment out of the King's hands and began to read, eyes wide as they scanned the hastily written words.

Faramir stared in disbelief, his gaze shifting from his King to Imrahil and back again. The room had fallen silent at this news as they all awaited the information.

Aragorn held up his hand, stopping the boy from his nervous chatter, and whirled on the nearest guard. "Sound the horns, I want soldiers mounted and ready to leave within the hour."

Warning bells went of in Faramir's mind and he grasped Aragorn's arm when he turned to issue orders to another waiting guard. "This could be a trap. Everything that has happened today. It can't have been a coincidence. We must use caution."

Imrahil scowled and glanced up at Aragorn. "They've got nerve attacking Dol Amroth."

Aragorn, about to answer his Steward, turned to Imrahil, "Who is it?" He turned back to the boy. "What banner did they bear?"

"I-I don't know, Sir. I was just bade to ride here with all haste and deliver this message."

Aragorn nodded and bade the boy to follow. He limped toward the door, his Captains, Imrahil and Faramir following. "To the war room."

So intent were Aragorn, and those who followed him, on reaching their destination, they didn't notice the pair of eyes that watched carefully from the shadows.

-------------------------------------

Elladan scowled as night began to fall. He stood atop a terrace overlooking the city, silently praying to the Valar to return his sister to her husband and family safely. Legolas and Gimli stood beside him, offering their own prayer.

"Aragorn will rend them limb from limb," Gimli broke the uncomfortable silence that had fallen. "And if he does not, I will split their heads with every axe I own."

Elladan glanced down at the Dwarf and offered a slight smile. "Thank you, Gimli. I'm proud to have you and your axes on our side."

Gimli huffed. " No one steals the Queen out of her own City and lives to tell the tale, Lord Elf!"

"How fares Elrohir?" Legolas asked, his voice low, calm, compared to that of his Dwarven friend.

"Cirdan and grandfather are with him," Elladan's expression darkened, if that were possible. "The arrow hit him in the back, was broad and poisoned. He has a fever but they are working to bring it down."  
  


"We heal quickly," Legolas rested a reassuring hand on the grieving twin's shoulder. "So shall he."

"Have you finished your business?" Elladan asked Legolas, surprising the elven Lord of South Ithilian. 

"Yes, I have sent word for our sentries to be on the lookout for trouble along our boarders and aid has been prepared should the White City fall under attack." Legolas said.

Silence fell as they watched the fire from torchlight burn brightly throughout the city. There was no one in the street save the soldiers that looked for the Queen. By order of the King, a curfew was set and anyone found on the streets after the designated time, would be placed in the dungeons until the Queen, and her kidnappers, were found.

"Arwen-" Elladan's fingers were white as they gripped the elegantly carved rail. "If they hurt her….."

"There will be a long line, beginning with the King, to remove each limb from their bodies in every painful way imaginable." Gimli finished for the discouraged elf. His hand moved to his hip and clutched the hilt of his axe, squeezing tightly. "And I can think of many unpleasant ways to exact punishment."

Elladan nodded and forced a small smile. "Thank you, my friend. I must check on my brother. I cannot remain idle."

Legolas nodded in agreement. "It is difficult. I think Gimli and I will check on Aragorn. He was not doing well when last we saw him."

Elladan's eyes flashed. "Having his hands tied is not something that he is used to. I will join you after checking on Elrohir."

--------------------------

Faramir held his head in his hands, fighting off a splitting headache. Eowyn walked into the war room with a tray of ale and cheese for the men and frowned when she saw the grim look on the faces of the gathered men.

"We cannot send an army to Dol Amroth, not yet." Faramir muttered, for what seemed like the thousandth time. Eowyn set down the tray and rested a comforting hand on her husband's shoulder. He, she noted, looked nearly as bad as Aragorn and Imrahil.

"And let Lord Imrahil's city be taken?!" Advisor Soront slammed his fist into the table.

Imrahil glanced at the man, grateful for the support no one else on the Council seemed to share, save Aragorn.

"We have lingered here too long." Aragorn scowled. "I will not sit idly by and let Dol Amroth fall to some unknown foe."

"At least wait for the scouts to return with news on what we would be up against should we send soldiers to reinforce the city." Faramir stared at Aragorn, impressing patience upon the man. 

"Everything that has happened today was not a coincidence." Faramir stared at each man sitting around the table.

"Then we must discover who was behind this!" Advisor Raorn said. "We've opened up the White City to the Haradrim, and on the same day the Queen is abducted and the King nearly assassinated! Don't tell me there is not a connection."

"There may not be." Faramir admitted, ready to stare down the King should Aragorn vehemently disagree. Much to the Steward's surprise Aragorn only nodded.

"Faramir could be right." Aragorn closed his eyes momentarily to collect his thoughts and then continued. "But we must resolve this matter with Dol Amroth first. As much as I want my wife back, if Lord Imrahil's city is under attack, the people within need to be my first priority." Aragorn took a deep breath and continued, his voice much lower, etched with pain. " The lives of the many are more important than the one, be it my life or that of my Queen."

The War Captains, Advisors and Lords simply stared at the King. Some began to speak over one another, vehemently disagreeing with Aragorn's statement.

"But, the Queen-"

"The City is locked down. Only by my orders will the gates re-open." Aragorn said, eyes hardening. "No one is getting out of this City with my wife. No one."

Imrahil rested his hand on Aragorn's shoulder, realizing how difficult it had been for the King to admit that sending aid to Dol Amroth took priority over finding his kidnapped wife. "Let me lead soldiers from the White City to Dol Amroth. You need to stay here within the protection of the City."

Aragorn's eyes flashed. "I will not let-"

"Let me finish." Imrahil held up a hand and Aragorn's eyes narrowed. "If it is a trap, I will ride into it. Loosing me is not nearly as important as loosing our King."

Faramir's prior words about his safety came back like an avalanche and Aragorn scowled.

"Agreed." Came the reluctant response from the King.

"This will leave you free to prepare the City if a war breaks out close to the walls. And you can continue the search for Arwen. Here." Imrahil stared at Aragorn, impressing upon the man to see the logic in his suggestion. "You must remain here."

Aragorn took a deep breath and glanced at Faramir, who nodded to Imrahil. "I agree, My Lord."

Raorn held out his hand to gain the attention of the Council. "Will soldiers rally behind Lord Imrahil more fervently than they would our King?"

"Until we receive word as to who exactly is attacking Dol Amroth, I will not let the King out of this City." Faramir stood to emphasize his point. "And this point is not up for discussion." Eowyn gawked at her husband, at once shocked and proud to see him stand up against seemingly staunch opposition.

Sorant shoved his seat back and stood. "And what of the Queen? We need to find out who has taken her! The reports we have are sketchy at best."

Raorn stood as well, glancing angrily across the table at Sorant. "Question the Haradrim."

"Soldiers stand ready for your call, My Liege," The Captain of Gondor's guard stepped behind Aragorn and bowed.

Silence fell as Aragorn thoughtfully made his decision. "Send five hundred men up the Anduin to Dol Amroth. Lord Imrahil will lead them."

"We should wait for the scouts to return." Faramir said quietly.

"This is why we are sending five hundred only." Aragorn answered. "When you run into the scouts, Lord Imrahil will make the decision to continue on or send back to the City for reinforcements."

Imrahil stood and nodded, grateful to be given command of even a small number of men to reinforce his City. 

"We are adjourned here for the time being," Aragorn stood. "I must see how my brother fares."

Aragorn walked out as the men scrambled to their feet and bowed hastily. Two very well armed Citadel guards flanked the King, his shadows until this unknown conflict was resolved.

---------------------------

When Aragorn reached the Houses of Healing,  Elrohir's chamber was already filled with friends and kin all waiting to hear how the elf was faring.

"How is he?" Aragorn asked Elladan, who was at the moment pacing the length of the room.

"Grandfather and Cirdan have not come out." Elladan said, turning slowly to give his foster brother a good once-over. The King looked every bit as pale and stressed as his brother and Elladan pulled the man into a tight embrace. "He will live. I'm certain of it."

Elladan noted the shadow that had followed Aragorn into the chamber and nodded in approval. "What of Arwen?"

Aragorn turned away, heart twisting when he thought of her in the hands of her kidnappers. "There has been no sign. The lower circles of the city have not been completely rebuilt. Many of the buildings were burned and destroyed during the War. It is making the search difficult."

"Are you certain they did not get her out of the City?"

Aragorn looked quickly up at his brother. "Yes." Aragorn's gaze dropped as anger rose in his eyes. "No. No one can be sure. I locked down the City as soon as I heard, but…she was so close already to the outside gate. I just don't know."

"My own people have begun searching the surrounding area," Legolas rested a hand on his friend's shoulder. At Aragorn's surprised look, the elf chuckled. "I sent for help the minute I heard. They will report when they have news."

"Thank you, my friend." Aragorn rested his hand on Legolas' arm and smiled. "I will see to it they are permitted to come and go through the gates of the City."

Legolas nodded and everyone started at the sound of the door to Elrohir's room opening.

A grim faced Celeborn walked slowly through and settled his eyes on Elladan with a quick glance at Aragorn. A chill raced down the spines of the two brothers as Celeborn began to speak.

-------------------------

A dark figure crept through the candlelit halls, silent, his booted feet making not a sound on the polished marble floor. Guards stood at nearly every entrance, watching carefully for an attack to come from their invisible foe.

Each guard that he could not circumvent, was quietly killed with a deft slash to the neck and the body disposed of in a little traveled section of the Citadel. The figure crept closer to his prey, watching with hawklike eyes for any indication that he had been seen. He scowled at the entryway to the King's section of the Citadel, admitting that it would be suicide to even attempt to take the life of the King within such a heavily guarded area. Instead, the figure crept down the halls to the next best target and easily killed the ornately robed men guarding those chambers.

The figure slipped inside and secured the door. It didn't take long before he found his target – sitting with a man, dressed in rich Gondorian robes, sipping wine. He listened to a few minutes of the conversation, planning the best way to kill his prey without attracting too much attention. 

"If they discover that I've been at the heart of this plan, I'll be put to death."

"They will discover nothing," The large, dark-skinned man assured the other. "You have set in motion a great deed that will assist us in overthrowing this Kingdom, however, I did not expect to be the target of a botched assassination attempt."

"That was not in my plan. I am as at a loss as the King when it comes to this assassination attempt." The Gondorian man smiled at his companion, glancing over the King's shoulder toward where the dark figure had just slipped into the shadows.

The King leaned forward and stared at the man, "You are hiding something. The King has not left the City and this assassin still roams freely. Your plan has failed."

The figured unsheathed his ornate knife and rested it against the neck of his prey. "On the contrary." 

The King's eyes widened at the man sitting across from him, who merely smiled and leaned back in his seat, bringing the blood red wine to his lips for a long, lingering sip.

"Everything is proceeding just as I have planned."  A quick flick of the assassin's wrist and the King's neck was slit, not a sound made as his vocal chords were cut and his life ended.

The Gondorian man stood and smiled widely. "Well done." He returned his glass to the table and stood, staring down at the dead body of the Haradrim King. "Let's see how Elessar deals with the blood of a royal guest on his hands."

"War is at hand, My Lord." The assassin bowed. "I await your order."


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6 

"Tell your people to be ready. The assault _must happen on schedule," The Gondorian man whispered urgently to the masked assassin. _

"All will go as planned." The dark-robed man assured.

"Good, good." The Gondorian man clasped his hands together. "Once Dol Amroth falls, and with it the King's most trusted advisor, and the Queen still missing…it will drive the King mad." He glanced at the assassin, and excited smile spreading across his face. "He will put himself at risk, and that is when you will strike."

"I must get out of the City first, if my people are to be ready to ride against the Prince."

The man dismissed the assassin with a wave of his hand. "Easily remedied. I can show you the secret passage out of the City."

A dark eyebrow raised with curiosity. 

"Oh yes, there are many secret passageways out of the City for the royal family to flee in times of great need." The man chuckled to himself. "There will be no royal family to use them once the attack on the White City begins."

-------------------------------

Aragorn sat in his office, head in his hands when Faramir rushed through the doors, a look of horror on his face.

Aragorn stood immediately and breathed, "What it is?"

"The Haradrim King has just been found – murdered." Faramir said quickly, giving no more than a passing curious look at the Chamberlain and two errand riders that had just walked in.

"What?!" Aragorn growled. "How?!"

"I've began an investigation but-"

Aragorn called for his guard. "Summon the Haradrim advisors. Bring them directly here, no detours!"

Aragorn returned his attention to Faramir, ignoring the horrified looks on the Chamberlain and the errand riders faces. "You'd better find out how this has happened, Faramir, or we are in for a very quick declaration of war." 

"I've already started-"

"I'm sorry to interrupt, My Lord," The Chamberlain stepped forward and was rewarded with a deep scowl of annoyance from the King and his Steward. 

"We bring news from Dol Amroth…"

"What of it?" Aragorn asked without pause. He stared at the bloodied riders that stood next to the Chamberlain and narrowed his eyes. "Speak!"

"We-we ride from Lord Imrahil, My Lord," The first boy answered nervously. "He sent us back to call for help." The boy glanced up at the Chamberlain, who rested a comforting hand on the young man's shoulder. 

"Go on," The Chamberlain said quietly. "The King will not harm you."

Faramir stepped closer, as did Aragorn, to hear the boy's news.

"Easterlings are attacking Dol Amroth. Lord Imrahil led his men against them but, but, he was trapped as more came in from behind and-and," The Chamberlain squeezed the boy's shoulder and he fell silent. 

The man nodded to the other boy who began slowly, eyes sad. " Lord Imrahil was trapped. We were on our way back here when the road was cut from us. There had to have been thousands of Easterlings, Lord Imrahil was trapped and then-" The boy glanced at his feet, unsure of how to speak of what he saw.

"Then?" Aragorn asked quickly, eyes flitting from the boy's to the Chamberlain and back again. 

"Then the banners fell, The banners of Dol Amroth and of Gondor, which he carried." The boy glanced up, eyes sad, "Lord Imrahil fell with them."

Aragorn fell back as if he'd been slapped. Faramir paled and leaned against a nearby desk, reeling from the news. 

Aragorn turned away to gather his thoughts - and to control the fury that welled in his chest. After a few silent moments, he whirled around. "Thank you for this news. Lord Chamberlain, please see to it that these riders are well fed and cared for." When the man nodded and did not move, Aragorn continued. "You are dismissed."

Faramir steeled himself for the furious explosion that would be the King's temper. He could barely keep his own under control with the news of his Uncle's death. It hit him like a blow to the gut, and he could barely stand - much less continue to war with his King over the man's very safety.

"Ready an army to ride to Dol Amroth's defense." Aragorn spat, his anger barely concealed. "I will crush these people once and for all!"

Faramir opened his mouth to speak when two advisors and the regent of Lossarnach rushed through the door.

"What is it now?" Aragorn glanced up to see the petrified looks on the faces of the three men.

"My Lord," Regent Aerthane bowed low before his King. "Lossarnach is under attack. I've come to request aid. We cannot hold the City!"

Faramir's eyes widened and he glanced up, wondering what else could possibly be next. It couldn't get much worse unless the King himself was assassinated.

Aragorn sighed and rubbed his eyes. "Tell me this is just a cruel joke?"

Aerthane turned to the two advisors that had accompanied him, confused as to why the King would have such a reaction.

"No, My Lord," Soront answered for Aerthane. "Corsairs have sailed up the Anduin and have begun attacking Lossarnach."

"Reports are trickling in slowly but there are numerous ships dropping Corsair's onto the shores." Raorn continued. 

"They've caught us by surprise, My Lord, as we had just sent aid to Dol Amroth. I fear we do not have enough soldiers to keep the City from falling into Corsair hands – not without aid." Aerthane said quickly.

"Then we will reinforce what men you have there with soldiers from the White City. We can spare no ships, the majority of them have sailed soldiers to Dol Amroth, and I am about to take the rest to shore up the defense of that City." Aragorn stared at Faramir and snapped, "Ready 2000 men and send them, with Lord Aerthane at their head, to Lossarnach."

"Thank you, My Lord!" Aerthane bowed deeply and the two advisors left to carry out the King's orders.

"I am riding to Dol Amroth." Aragorn stated, challenging either Faramir or Raorn to object to his decision.

"My Lord!" Faramir did object, and quite loudly, as Raorn began to do the same.

"You will not stop me, Faramir. Something has to be done and I will no longer sit on my hands in the Citadel and do nothing!" Aragorn's eyes blazed and had Faramir not been so adamant about keeping his King safe, he would have wilted beneath the fiery gaze.

"I will not allow you-"

"You have no choice, Faramir," Aragorn growled. "When last I looked, I was the King of Gondor and you were merely its Steward!"

Their argument brought in a rush of guards as well as Eowyn and Elladan, who had been speaking with Ioreth and Celeborn about Elrohir's recovery.

"You are not thinking clearly " Faramir answered, ignoring the audience the two men had gained in a few short minutes.  "You are not in the right frame of mind to make decisions about our current situation."

"And would you sit idly by and watch the holdings dependant on your protection burn down around you?" Aragorn answered loudly. "My foster brother has been injured, near fatally, a visiting King, with whom we are trying to avoid a **WAR**, has been killed beneath our very noses, Imrahil has been killed because **I allowed him to leave this City  **AND** my wife is missing! How do you think I should react to this, Faramir?"**

"And how many men do you think would be able to go with you to Dol Amroth? You've sent some already. Do you plan to take them all and leave the White City defenseless?! I will not allow you to leave the Citadel." Faramir dropped his voice and answered truthfully. "There aren't enough soldiers in the City that I could send that could assure me of your safety."

"You intend to protect and coddle me like some child?" Aragorn asked, his eyes blazing. "I will not stand idly by and let this Kingdom crumble around me. Not when we've worked so hard to restore it!"

Aragorn turned on his heal and moved to walk away when he was halted by a very strong grip on his arm. "I will not let you leave, Aragorn." Faramir said slowly, "Please understand, I do what I do now only for your safety."

Aragorn's eyes narrowed as Faramir ordered the royal guard to take the King into protective custody.

Eowyn gasped and Elladan and Celeborn moved toward Aragorn.

"You have no authority-" Aragorn began to protest as his own guards surrounded him and glanced at the two men uncertainly.

"I am second in rank only to you, Aragorn, and you are not fit – at this time – to rule Gondor. I **DO** have the authority when the safety of the Kingdom, and the royal family is at stake. There has already been one attempt on your life, I will not make it easy for there to be another such attempt!" 

Faramir turned to the advisors that stood staring in shock as the two men argued. "You will bear witness." Faramir straightened and cleared his throat, making this announcement as official as could be expected under the circumstances. "I am officially removing his majesty, King Elessar from his duties. He is not in the right frame of mind to make decisions on the conflict facing us."

Faramir turned determined eyes on the royal guard. "Take him to his chambers. I am confining him there until further notice."

Aragorn stood stunned, glaring at his Steward. Faramir took a step back, nearly wilting beneath the furious gaze, as the Citadel guard grasped Aragorn and held him firmly by the upper arms. "You cannot do this, Faramir!" 

Celeborn stepped beside Aragorn, his voice calm and reassuring, even as his heart thudded against his chest.  "Do not fight this. It will be resolved. You need rest."

Faramir nodded toward Celeborn and Aragorn was pulled out of the room, screaming down the hallways to be released.

 Elladan and Celeborn followed close behind, knowing they would be needed before the night was over.

Faramir slumped to his knees, his eyes a mask of pain and sadness. Eowyn knelt beside him and pulled him into her arms, unable to speak but intent on offering comfort where she could.

When he pulled away, he stared vacantly at his wife. "What have I done?"


	7. Chapter 7

**This chapter contains a shocking violence not suited for younger readers. Read at your own risk.**

**This is not, by ANY stretch, a happy chapter.**

**Chapter 7**

"Get out!" Aragorn growled at Elladan and Celeborn. 

"Brother, you-"

Aragorn whirled Elladan, his eyes hard and glared. "Get. Out." He repeated, running hand through his mussed hair and toppling a nearby table in his rage. 

"We are not leaving."

"You are not needed." Aragorn growled, strode quickly into his bedchambers and slammed the door.

The two elves heaved heavy sighs and took seats in the receiving room, determined to wait until Aragorn was ready to speak to them. His rage would fade when he had a few moments to relax, to gather his thoughts.

In his chambers, Aragorn finally collapsed, his heart racing. He had never been so angry. He had never felt so helpless. The King was nothing more than a pretty figurehead to look at while everyone worked frantically  around him.  As a Ranger he'd had more freedom. How he missed that life.  As a Ranger he could have – Aragorn stopped and turned to stare at the wall, and the secret passage concealed behind it.

As a Ranger he would be free to seek out those who had taken his wife, rather than be bound to the duties of a King. Aragorn strode quickly to his dressing room and knelt before a long unused bundle of clothes, piled behind the elegant silks and velvets worn now as representation of his office. He pulled out the rugged leather and shed his Kingly attire. Soon, he was dressed as a Ranger once again and he sighed as the comfortable familiarity returned to his senses. 

Sliding his elven knife into its sheath and strapping Anduril to his hip, he pressed the lever that would allow him safe passage out of the Citadel – and even the City – without anyone ever noticing he'd gone.

He gripped the candle tightly as he stepped into the darkness. When the passage slid shut behind him, he was truly alone, and bathed in the shadows again, looking every bit like an Arnorian Ranger. 

------------------------------ 

"My Lord!" 

"What is it?" Faramir looked up, eyes red from exhaustion, and stared at the Citadel guard.

"The King!" The terror in the guard's eyes send a tremor of horror down Faramir's spine and he leapt to his feet. "He's been assassinated!"

"What?!" Faramir cried, bringing anyone in the outside halls rushing into the office. "No! You must be mistaken! Take me. Now!"

The Chamberlain, two council advisors and a host of armed guards parted when Faramir arrived. They had not touched the body of the King, who lay face down in a luxurious fur rug near the crackling fireplace.

Faramir's breath caught, hoping that his eyes deceived him. He found himself quickly kneeling at his King's side, bowing his head. "No."

"This dart was found embedded in his back," The guard held out the poisonous object and Faramir nodded absently. "We've captured the assassin and await your order."

Faramir flattened his hand against the King's head and slowly rolled the dead man onto his back. As a guard knelt down to assist, Faramir noticed that the man was not wearing the famed Ring of Barahir that Aragorn hadn't removed from his finger since the Steward had known the man.  Faramir's chest tightened and they finished rolling over the dead man, to find that it was not the body of the King, but of a servant dressed in the King's clothing.

"Where is the King?!" Faramir growled. "This man who lies dead at my feet is not King Elessar." He turned to the Citadel Guard who stood rooted in place. "You find him, or I will banish each and every one of you, and your families, from this City!"

Eowyn, who had followed Elladan and Celeborn into the King's chambers, stepped towards her husband and rested a comforting hand on his shoulder. She could see him succumbing to the stress for which he had relieved his King of command, and didn't know who was left in the City to hold it together if Faramir were to loose control.

"He's left to search for Arwen," Elladan said slowly. He knew his brother all too well.

Faramir held his head in his hands. "Oh surely you jest? This situation has just gone from worse to unbelievable."

"I'm leaving the City to find my sister." Elladan straightened. "I will return with the King and Queen, or I will not return at all." He whirled on his heal and strode out of the room, leaving the remaining occupants to stare quietly after him.

-------------------------

Fire's burned brightly along the shoreline as the Southron Prince smiled. From his vantage point on the flagship of the Corsair fleet, he could see Lossarnach, and those who sought to defend it, loosing the valiant struggle to keep their harbor safe from the invading enemy. He smiled widely and spoke into the wind, "It is good that I've made this alliance. My brother would never have considered it, but that is why he is dead, and soon, I will rule over my own people _and_ those of our ancient enemy!"

"Lord Prince?" A Corsair captain interrupted his thoughts and the Prince whirled on the man. 

"What is it?"

"She has been brought aboard."

The Prince clasped his hands together with glee. " Wonderful. See to it that she is locked in my chambers."

The Wild Men stepped up to the Prince and smiled smugly. "We told you we could do it. All too easy."

"It took you long enough."

"We were," One of the men smiled, remembering their little detour, "detained."

"No doubt between the thighs of some tavern wench." The prince muttered in disgust.

"We've held up our end of the deal," The other man said quickly. "Now you hold up yours."

"Yes, indeed. I should have had more faith." He removed a small coin satchel from his waist and tossed it at the barbaric men. "Your payment in full."

The two men clawed at the contents while being escorted to the boats that would return them to land.

The Prince turned in time to see the Queen of Gondor being taken below the deck to his chambers. He smiled widely. "It is time."

----------------------------

"You will tell me what I want to know or you will die slowly and painfully," Faramir stood over the bound assassin, hands clenched into fists so tightly his knuckles were white.

Those of Aragorn's council, not otherwise detained,  stood around Faramir, watching as he continued to issue threats to the obviously black Numenorean assassin.

"My people have long been at war with your King. What makes you think I will speak of my plans or of the plans of my superiors?" Blood trickled from the corner of the man's mouth and he choked as Faramir's fist connected with his stomach once again.

"Tell me or you will die."

"I will die regardless." The man stared ahead until the door to the private cell opened and the Chamberlain walked through. The Gondorian man masked his surprise quickly enough but not before Faramir  noticed the look that passed between the two men.

The assassin took advantage of Faramir's look of disbelief to wrench a sword from a Citadel guard's hand. Before he could thrust the blade into Faramir's chest, however, a guard lunged and removed the assassin's sword arm. The resulting cry as tThe sword fell to clang loudly on the floor was the only sound as silence filled the room. 

Faramir stalked toward the Chamberlain and clutched his blade, his eyes blazing. "What do you know of this man and his actions?"

The Chamberlain stared horrified at Faramir, "No-nothing, My Lord."

Citadel guards pulled the fallen assassin to his feet and dragged him back into his cell. When the metal doors slammed shut, the black Numenorean laughed. "You cannot avoid it. The war will slip through the gates of your city like the plague that sacked Osgiliath in the third age! Then the mighty Gondor will finally fall!"

Faramir gripped the rungs of the cell tightly and leaned close. "The remnants of your pitiful armies cannot hope to conquer the White City. Your plan has failed."

Faramir did not miss the glance the assassin shot at the Chamberlain but he continued his taunt regardless. "You have killed the King of the Haradrim for us. Rid us of a tedious alliance at best."

"I will tell anyone willing to listen that you hired me to do so."

Faramir scowled. "Then perhaps you will not live through the night and we will have to find another," He glanced quickly at the Chamberlain and then back at the assassin, "to give us the information we desire."

"My Lord!" A guard rushed down the steps. "The City is under attack! Banners of the Haradrim have been sighted advancing across the Palennor!"

"Ah, valar!" Faramir groaned but even Eowyn was frightened by the cold set of his eyes as he quickly, and without thought, issued orders.  "Mobilize a first line of defense and set a watch on the gates.  Gather the Captains in the courtyard. I will be there momentarily!"

Faramir turned to the Chamberlain, "Return to your chambers. You will be questioned when I return."

The Chamberlain nodded nervously and rushed out of the dungeons without looking back.

Faramir turned to a guard. "Follow him and see that he obeys my instructions."

---------------------------

"Cursed woman!" The Southron Prince backhanded Arwen and she landed with a yelp of pain onto the bed. "Enough with the sea-sickness. I have an heir to Gondor's throne to plant inside your belly!"

Arwen looked at him horrified as she fought another wave of nausea. As soon as she'd set foot on the Corsair ship and felt the wood rock beneath her feet, an unsettling feeling had come over her and she'd begun to retch up what little food she had been given since her capture. Struggling with her captor did little to help with the nausea.

"Oh yes, precious Queen, by the time I'm finished planting my seed, your King will be dead – and an heir of Southron blood will be growing inside your belly. And he will  ascend the throne of our most hated enemy. My brother, our King, is also dead and I am now the undisputed heir."

Arwen shook her head and crawled backward as he advanced, laughing, making a game of her fear. She kicked at him and he merely laughed.

 "I will never lay with you." Arwen cried when he finally reached her and held her hands above her head. "You will not have me." She kicked at him with her unbound legs, smiling in smug satisfaction when each kick landed solidly against his large frame.

"Oh yes you will. Willingly or no." He backhanded her across the face with such force that she was knocked breathless onto the cushions of the bed. "I've always wanted to take an elf to bed." Before she could regain her senses and further resist, he wrapped leather straps around her wrists and tied them to the posts of the bed, effectively ending her protest. "I wonder if your kind are as insatiable as is rumored." He tore at her clothing, leaving shreds of fine silk dangling across her body.

Arwen kicked at him  but barely connected as he stood and looked down at her with an amused grin. He slowly unfastened his breeches and readied himself before her eyes.

 "My husband will never stop hunting you!" Arwen cried as he gripped her ankles and wrenched apart her legs. "No! You cannot have me!" 

The pain in her wrists as she pulled against her bonds was nothing compared to the terror in her eyes as he held her legs so tightly she could not pull away.

He knelt between her thighs and leaned over her, his breath hot in her ear. "Just think, your majesty,  as I take you to my bed, your husband is being forcibly _removed from his office." The unmistakable glee in the Southron Prince' gaze was not lost on Arwen and she whimpered from the crushing sensation of his weight pressing her into the cushions. "He will be killed this very evening by an assassin's dart."_

She continued to struggle, shaking her head in denial but when large hands landed on her hips, pinning her to the bed, there was no movement that she could make to stop the inevitable.

"No!" Arwen screamed in denial and she squeezed shut her eyes in pain as she was torn in two by his violent invasion. 

"Oh yes," The Prince cooed, showing no mercy in his invasion of her body. "He will be quite dead, if he is not already. Soon, the City will be in a panic. Being assailed from all sides as my army begins its march to victory. Dol Amroth has fallen as has Lossarnach and soon shall the White City." 

She struggled against him, tears pooling beneath closed eyelids as her senses were overwhelmed with grief. Her body ached and the urge to hurl what little she'd ate for dinner was a constant pressure in the back of her throat. He couldn't be dead. There was no way someone could reach him in the White City. He would come for her. He _would_.

Arwen whimpered in pain as the Southron Prince took her with a violence she would never forget and she resolved to kill this man in the most violent of ways should the opportunity ever present itself.

When his hands ripped at what remained of her clothing, she struggled harder, determined not to let him see what belonged to her husband alone.

"Yes, Yes," he grunted, "Struggle for me sweet little elf. Show me how spirited our son will be!" His head dipped to bite at her porcelain skin and Arwen's head tossed to the side, denying him access to her lips. He growled and gripped her hips even tighter, holding her still as his body violated her in the most intimate of ways.

"No!" Arwen screamed and closed her eyes when she felt a familiar warmth flood through her stomach. "No!"

With a satisfied grunt, he rolled off her and stood, eyes raking across her perfectly smooth body lying tied beneath him. 

Weakly, she crossed her legs and twisted her hips away from him, denying him further access or even the sight of his violent possession of her.

"Hmm, very warm and tasty." He fastened his breeches about his waist once again and knelt beside her to press a kiss to her bruised cheek. "I shall enjoy many more evenings in your bed, my _Queen."_

Arwen steeled herself and opened her eyes. Though tears flowed from the corners of the ebony stars, they were hard and cold as ice as she stared at this man. "I am the Queen of King Elessar of Gondor. Though you may unwillingly take me to your bed, my heart will forever belong to him."

The man stood, laughing and walked out of the chamber, leaving Arwen, clothes hanging in shredded tatters around her body, exposed on the bed of furs. In between her sobs, she managed a small smile as she glared at the door. "The son I bear will not be of your blood, of that you can be certain."

TBC


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8 

The boat rocked casually over the calm sea as Arwen continued to fight the nausea that threatened to bring up her meal. But determination to not be seen as a weak-willed woman propelled her to down force the sick feeling that had built to near un-ignorable proportions since setting foot on the ship.

Tears stung the corner of her eyes as she lay unmoving atop the cushions, her body bruised and battered from the invasion of the Southron Prince.

Eyes open or closed, she could not displace the image of the man above her, forcing himself onto, into her. She fought the sinking feeling of despair that had settled into the pit of her stomach in the aftermath of the man's assault. The feeling of his heavy arm draped across her stomach was enough to make her ill, yet she feared to move, lest he wake and take her again.

Her body ached but her soul ached even more. She could not even bring herself to think of her husband. Of the dishonor that she'd brought to the man she loved with her entire being. She couldn't bear the thought of his beautifully expressive eyes when he discovered how she had been violated. Would he see her as a dirty, filthy woman, having lain, however unwillingly, with another man? She couldn't bear the thought and so she forced her love from her mind, along with all other rational thought.

Tears continued to slip out of the corner of her eyes, but she remained silent, until an uneasy sleep, plagued with horrific dreams, claimed her bruised and battered body.

Many hours later, a dark-clad figure slipped into the room, clicking the door shut without even the smallest sound.  The intruder bit back a shocked gasp as his eyes fell on the Southron Prince lying soundly asleep beside the elven Queen. The Prince' arms were wrapped firmly around her body as she lay unmoving, eyes staring at the ceiling. 

Her  hands were still fastened above her head, wrists now bloodied from the times she had in vain struggled to get free. Her bottom lip was bruised, where she had been struck numerous times in vain efforts to silent her protests.

The shrouded man stood stunned into immobility as a surge of intense anger welled in his chest. His eyes flicked to the Queen, the bruises that covered her body and the cuts that marred her wrists where she had obviously struggled against her captor. The shrouded man reached for the knife at his waist, drawing the sharp steel from its sheath with a quiet _ting. _

Arwen slowly turned her unemotional gaze toward this new intruder. Her eyes widened as she stared in desperate hope at the dark figure, ebony eyes pleading with the man who was completely shrouded from her view. Whoever it was, she didn't care, as long as he was here to free her. 

She watched with unblinking eyes as the figure slowly crept toward the bed. He was tense, she could see the muscles straining beneath the well-worn material of his shirt, coiled like a serpent as if to strike. When he was close enough, she gasped as she recognized the intense crystalline eyes that stared unbelievingly back at her. The ranger garb he wore was unmistakable, as was the elven blade gleaming in the flickering candlelight.  Arwen bit back a gasp of shame and lowered her gaze.

When he leaned down and pressed the knife to the sleeping man's throat, the Prince woke and swallowed a gasp of surprise when the elven-forged steel cut into his neck.

"You will tell me of your plans and your end will be swift." The cold, steely voice sent shivers down Arwen's spine. "Otherwise-"

"I will do no such thing, assassin." The Prince growled, stretching his neck as much as he could to get a better look at the man who dared enter his private chambers. He made a mental note to have his personal guard executed.

 A gloved hand pressed tightly against the man's throat and his eyes widened when the elven knife, faster than the eye could see, sliced neatly through the bonds restraining the Queen.

Arwen  quickly launched herself from the bed, seeking to put as much distance from this man as she could. She groaned as her body protested the quick movement and she faltered, stumbling to the ground as her legs gave out beneath her.

The shrouded man flinched but before he could react further, Arwen had pushed herself to her feet, willing the bruised and battered muscles to work at her command. She quickly gathered a large tunic and slipped into it, securing it closed with a torn piece of her gown.

"I can share my prize with you," The Prince coed, eyes flicking from the trembling Queen to the shrouded man. "Release me and you may take her. Ravage that sweet, tasty flesh as I have done many a time tonight."

Arwen stepped back and grasped the wall for support. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed the knife the shrouded man held begin to shake. She could see his breathing change and the knife tremble in his grasp. What she could see of his knuckles, were deathly white.  Arwen stepped toward the man but a partially gloved hand came up to halt her steps.

 The man angrily pulled the shroud from his head and the Prince stared in disbelief at the steely eyes of the King of Gondor. "You are in no position to give to me what is already mine."

The Prince blinked disbelievingly until his eyes fell on the sheathed _Flame of the West, _the famed sword of Westernese_, _resting at the man's hip.

"How did you-" He trailed off, sensing the tension so thick that it could not even be sliced by the sharpest blade. He could feel the anger radiating from the King, could see it in his rigid stance, in the iron-clad grip with which he held his blade. The garb the King wore was a startling reminder of exactly _who_ this man standing before him truly was; an Arnorian Ranger  - skilled as the most prized Haradrim assassin, in tracking and stealth.

"Arwen, bind him." Aragorn instructed and his wife quickly complied, not daring to look at her husband. The shame of what had been done to her, how she had been taken against her will, flooded her thoughts. She would have rather died than have her beloved see and know, without a doubt, that she had been violated in the worst way imaginable.

As Arwen worked to gather the necessary bindings, the Prince scowled at the King. "She may belong to you. But I have sired a son on her tonight! The heir she bears will be of Southron blood, Elessar. Remember that when you look into his face!" Arwen quickly shoved silk linens into the Prince' mouth, silencing his stinging words. She didn't dare look at her husband. She didn't want to see the betrayal in his eyes,  the pain, the disbelief.

When the Prince' arms were firmly tied to the posts of the bed, Arwen moved to stand beside her husband. Her mind was swimming but she had no time to think before her husband pulled her against his body, and embraced her so tightly, she nearly cried out from the pain. He gazed down at her with an apologetic look in his eyes. "I'm sorry, indonya. I'm so sorry."

She stifled a sob and leaned into his embrace, lifting her lips in an invitation he could not refuse. "Kiss me. Please." She begged. The memory of the Southron's touch sent tears once more streaming down her cheeks. "He told me you were dead. I didn't believe him. I _couldn't give up hope that you would come for me."_

"There is _always_ hope." Aragorn whispered, frantically pressing kisses across her bruised cheeks before settling his mouth firmly against her trembling lips. "And I would travel alone into the very depths of hell to find you."

"My Estel," Arwen whimpered, returning his kiss and gripping him so tightly that her knuckles turned white.

Aragorn sheathed the knife and cupped his wife's cheeks in both hands, gently smoothing the soft skin with the pads of his thumbs. 

The Southron watched as their lips met and the memories, for the moment, melted away beneath her husband's gentle caress. When they parted, Aragorn turned steely, cold eyes on the bound man and once more, slowly, drew the elven knife with which he intended to end the Prince' life.

When Arwen's hand slid around her husband's wrist, gently coaxing the knife from his grasp, he stared at her, reluctant to release the blade. She met his questioning gaze with a steely look that immediately sent tremors of fear down his spine. 

He reluctantly released the knife and gently rested his hands at her waist, offering comfort, stability and support for what he feared she was about to do. Arwen raked her eyes down the man's naked form lying tied to the bed in a fashion similar to what he had done to her – however, this time, she had bound his legs.

"It is not a comfortable position, is it?" Arwen's voice was a cold as she stared down at the man - who began struggling the moment Aragorn had released the knife into his wife's hands.

She dropped the tip of the knife to his waist and his eyes widened, realizing with a jolt of terror, what the Queen of Gondor was about to do. "You will never violate another."

Aragorn watched in strange fascination as Arwen slowly dragged the tip of the knife to the place that had invaded her so violently. Without a second glance at the Prince' horrified gaze, she sliced down the flaccid length, drawing the man's hips sharply from the bed, and muffled cries of pain from his gagged lips.

Arwen quickly turned her gaze to his face, watching as the man writhed in pain. His head tossed and he screamed into the gag. When Aragorn slid a gentle hand down to reclaim the blade, she released it without hesitation.

 Aragorn, ignoring the man's pitiful moans of pain, drew the flat edge of the knife down the trembling man's arm, "You will pay the price for this violation. With your life." With a quick flick of Aragorn's wrist, the blade slid across the Prince' belly, spilling the contents all over the soft furs. The man tried in vain to scream, but Arwen had gagged him too well.

Arwen closed her eyes and stood behind her husband, refusing to watch as Aragorn took her violator apart piece by piece.

When the King was finished, he wiped the blood from his blade on bed linens and turned to envelop his wife in his arms once again. After a few moments, gloved hands reached up to unfasten the elven cloak from around his shoulders. 

Arwen whimpered as the soft, familiar material was wrapped securely around her trembling frame, and secured at her neck. Shaking fingers reached up to touch the mallorn leaf that secured the cloak closed and Aragorn caught those fingers and quickly brought them to his lips.

Arwen whimpered when he stepped away and tore at a piece of silk that rested atop a nearby table. He ripped it into small shreds and dipped it into a basin of water nearby.  Gently, he washed the cuts at her wrists, dabbing at them with such care and compassion, that Arwen glanced down in shame. When he wrapped her wrists with still more silk, he again brought them to his mouth and pressed a gentle kiss to the now bandaged cuts.

After pressing a quick kiss to her trembling lips, Aragorn clasped her hand and made for the door.  "Lets go." 

--------------------------

The Corsair Captain scowled at the large army marching toward the fallen City of Lossarnach. "He promised that the soldiers of Gondor would remain in the City! The attack must have been thwarted!" He motioned for his men to retreat, seeing that there was no way that he would be able to hold Lossarnach from the force currently riding toward him.

"To the ships!" His herald cried and as the horn of retreat was sounded. His men currently in the interior of the City were lost now if they did not get out before the soldiers of Gondor arrived. He turned his back on Lossarnach and rushed with his remaining men back to the docks – and took the boats back to the ships that waited out at Sea.

As the Captain returned to his ship, Aragorn pressed Arwen against the bulkhead. Aragorn recognized the bright heraldry of the leader of the Corsairs, having fought and defeated them more times than he could remember. The King of Gondor slid his elven blade from its sheath and leapt at the Corsair Captain's back, resolving to kill him before any further men reached the ship.

His death was quick as a twist of Aragorn's wrist slit his throat. Aragorn disappeared into the darkness before any of the Captain's men could see what happened. The King pulled Arwen around the corner and he took them as far down to the water level as he could without being seen. "We'll have to swim to shore. I don't risk taking a boat. Can you manage?"

Arwen shot him an annoyed look which she immediately regretted. She flattened a soft hand against his cheek and pressed a quick kiss to his lips. "If I can endure what that devil did to me, I will find the strength to swim back to land and to our freedom."

Aragorn nodded and caught her hand before she could remove it. Turning it over, he pressed a lingering kiss to the bruised wrist, his eyes tender and apologetic. Her heart twisted but they voiced no words as he lifted her over the edge and dropped her quietly into the water. 

Before joining his wife, Aragorn procured a torch from a wandering soldier, snapping his neck with a quick wrench of his arm, and tossed the flame into the lower decks. He waited to make sure they caught fire before joining Arwen in the chilly sea.

As more boats reached the ship, the soldiers  became horrified to not only discover that their Captain had been murdered on his own ship but that said ship was being burned from within. 

--------------------------------------

When Aragorn and Arwen reached the shore, Gondorian soldiers had reached the city of Lossarnach and were routing the Corsairs not quick enough to make it back to their ships. A Gondorian Captain recognized the sopping wet King and Queen and immediately dismounted his horse and offered the animal to the royal couple.

"Majesties!" He bowed quickly. "Please take my steed. I know not how many more of the enemy lurk about. It will be safer on horseback."

"My thanks, Captain." Aragorn swung Arwen into the saddle and did not miss the slight gasp as she landed on the steeds back. He leapt behind her and wrapped a protective arm around her waist. 

"I've set fire to one of their ships. Their Captain is dead. You should have no trouble routing them."

The Captain stared at Aragorn in awe, until the King glanced toward the City and the Palennor fields that seemed to be alight with fire. "Something is attacking the White City." Aragorn turned to the Captain. "Leave a garrison of soldiers here to assist with the damage to Lossarnach and the routing of the Corsair's. The rest I need to return with me to the White City."

Arwen glanced uncertainly up at her husband and he pressed a kiss to her forehead. "It may be safer to leave you here than-"

"No!" The fright and terror in Arwen's voice caused even the Captain, who had turned to issue  orders to his second, to take pause.

Aragorn tightened his arms around his wife and nodded. "No. You're right. I won't let you out of my sight again."

Arwen settled uncomfortably into her husband's embrace as he urged the borrowed stallion toward the head of the gathered soldiers, waiting for his command.

Aragorn set his jaw and steeled his eyes ahead. Raising his hand, he motioned for the soldiers to fall into rank behind him and off they rode, into an unknown battle that they could see, even from Lossarnach, was raging across the fields of the Palennor.


End file.
